


You Make Me Remember

by Osidiano



Category: Digimon Adventure Zero Two | Digimon Adventure 02
Genre: Drug Addiction, Explicit Language, Implied/Referenced Drug Use, M/M, Non-Explicit Sex, POV First Person, Post-Series, Sibling Incest, Songfic, Stream of Consciousness, anger issues
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2003-01-04
Updated: 2003-01-04
Packaged: 2018-04-14 21:20:52
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,284
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4580562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Osidiano/pseuds/Osidiano
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Songfic to the Leah Andreone song of the same name, sans full lyrics. Takeru is an instigator and Yamato is angry and bitter every time he gives in.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You Make Me Remember

**Author's Note:**

> Please keep in mind that this is really old, and I didn't rewrite or edit it before putting it up here. You get it in all its 'teenage!Sid' glory. You're welcome.

"Yama. . ."

Please. . .please don't do that. Please don't whisper my name against my skin like that and please don't trail your soft hands down my chest like that and please — oh god  _please_ — don't smile at me like that 'cause you look so innocent and it lights up those beautiful half-lidded azure blue eyes of yours and makes you look like the untainted little boy that I know you are deep down inside and I'd laugh at that comparison — the fact that I still think that you're so pure even after all you've done to me — but

_(whispering you stare_  
_wanting you don't care_  
_kiss me make me cry_  
_how did I wind up here)_

then you'd hear me and I don't want you to hear me 'cause then you'd know that I can hear you too but right now I don't want to talk to you I just want you to leave me alone with the needles and pills and that liquid violence coursing through my veins and just stop doing this to me because, goddamn it, I don't _like_ this shit I don't like it one fuckin' bit but I think that if you really left me here I'd still be mad at you and I'd still want to wrap my hands around your pretty little neck and strangle you,

_(wishing you were dead_  
_why are you in my bed_  
_ignore what's jeopardized_  
_it's only me denied)_

you stupid shit-eating little bastard.

"Yama. . . Come on. . ." No. I don't want to do this. . . I don't want to play this game with you anymore 'cause I don't like this game — I don't like hurting you and I don't want to hurt you — but you like it and you want me to and you just don't care if I don't want to do this 'cause as long as you can get off in the morning you're happy and all I want is for you to be happy that's all I've ever wanted so I guess I'll just get the fuck over it

_(ooh I'm dizzy hazy_  
_ooh can someone save me)_  


and keep on doin' this shit but you have no idea how hard it is when you're layin' here next to me and curlin' up close like you think I can protect you from all your bad dreams and from all the shit in your life that you don't like but I can't — damn it! — I just _can't_ be everything that you want and need 'cause I'm still layin' here tryin' to figure out who I am and who you want me to be and who you _need_ me to be so how about you leave me alone and let me figure this out,

_(you speak my name_  
_I hear nothing_  
_you share your dreams_  
_I see nothing)_  


you cheap fucking little whore.

Shit. I can't take this anymore 'cause if I don't reach out and touch you right now I know that I'll scream and I'll hit you just to be _touching_ you and I don't want to do that so I lift a shaky hand and put it around you 'cause I think you're sleeping like a good little boy but you're not you were just waiting for it — waiting for me to snap — and now you're awake and you're crawlin' into my lap and wrappin' your arms around me and brushing your lips

_(inside a child asks why_  
_who used to bring me here)_

against my own and you're so warm and I can't help touching you 'cause I like to touch you and I can't help but wonder why we're doing this again 'cause it's so wrong — so ironic and a part of me never really gave a flying fuck at a rolling hole — and I know that brothers shouldn't do this — shouldn't touch each other like this and shouldn't love each other like this — but right now it feels  _right_ and so I'm just gonna pretend that we're not brothers — hell, we're not related at all — and just give in. . .

That's what you want, isn't it?

Oh god oh god oh god oh _god_. . . Somebody make it stop. . . Please, make him stop. . . But you're not gonna stop because you don't want to stop and that's all that matters, isn't it? For once I want to come home and not have you there waiting like some kind of leech to suck out what little of me I have left — that little bit of me that I started with — but I feel like such a hypocrite because I keep bitchin' about what you keep doing to me even as

_(you speak my name_  
_I hear nothing_  
_you share your dreams_  
_I see nothing_  
_unconscious suicide_  
_aren't you gone yet)_

I press you down and drag my drug-soaked hands up your warm chest and slide my tongue along the inner workings of your mouth and murmur your pretty pretty name against your lips as you moan and squirm and beg and plead like you wanna get inside me again and I _know_ you do 'cause you're sick like that and you _always_ want that but I'm just gonna play and tease and give in to the need — that burning violent shit that I shot up with not two hours ago — and I'm gonna take you and break you and you're gonna feel it in the morning — oh god

_(you make me remember)_

you'll feel it — and you're gonna want me to do it again and again and again but I won't do it just 'cause I want to fuckin' _spite_ you, you goddamn bitch-biting slut.

_(you touch my face I feel nothing_  
_you taste my lips I give nothing)_  


"Y-ya-yama. . .!"

Yes, little brother, I _can_ hear you gasping out my name as you arch up under me and drag your broken fingernails down my back and, yes, I like this too and, yes, it _is_ hard to just be teasing you because I know you know what I want to do with you and I know that that thought alone turns you on and you are very very hard to say no to so I think that I'm not going to — because giving in is just so much more fun — and it'll make you happy and I like making you happy and it'll make you tell me that you love me

_(but the memories come flooding back_  
_all I want to do is paint it. . .paint it black)_

and I like hearing that word from you because I can pretend that you really do even though I know that you don't really love me you just love _doing_ me and I guess that it's okay. I know that I love you, because I _always_ have and it doesn't matter if you don't love me back, as long as you're happy and I can pretend I'll be just fine. . .just, just fine. . .

I sit back, watching you pull yourself up and try to drag me back down as you whisper softly for me to continue but I don't want to. . . No, I don't think I want to do this 'cause I don't want to feel guilty later. I don't want to do this because it isn't right. I don't want to do this because sometimes I still imagine you as my eight year old, froggy little brother who used to ask me to play lullabies on my harmonica so that he could get to sleep at night. But I guess that you don't need my harmonica anymore, do you, Takeru? Yeah, you've outgrown my jazzy little lullabies and blues brother music. And I just gotta wonder. . .

Are you going to outgrow me, too?


End file.
